Louder Than Words
by Evie Warner
Summary: It had been going on for much too long, this little façade. But some things simply can't be spoken, so it's often better to just do them instead. (Or, 'that time Hiro finally kissed Tadashi in front of the nerd crew.')


**Author's Note:** I'm in the mood for some silly, shameless Hidashi fluff. :D

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 **Louder Than Words**

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His hands were shaking.

The darn appendages just wouldn't stay still! No matter how hard he clenched his fists or how deeply he dug them into his pockets, his hands were stuck on vibrate.

It was crazy. This was an everyday task, had been for the last year. It wasn't like Tadashi was late in picking him up from a trap of brick walls and thugs looking to smash his face in, it wasn't even the horror of high school.

This wasn't war, it was stepping into the nerd lab. As in, that amicable place where the most dangerous presence was Gogo. And last time Hiro checked, she was on his side.

Besides, Tadashi wanted this. He hadn't explicitly said it aloud, but Hiro could see it in his eyes. Felt it in every lingering touch of Tadashi running a hand through his hair, or those not-so brotherly hugs that as of yet were the limit of public affection their 'close family' façade allowed.

There was nothing Tadashi would force Hiro to do, even if his life depended on it. But say he _had_ come around to mentioning it, that wishful glint in his eyes was the equivalent of him being on his knees begging for Hiro to do this.

Once, he'd come dangerously close to it. Last night, in fact. Tadashi's breath had been hot on Hiro's lips, his thighs taunt and quivering at his younger brother's sides, and his voice several shades deeper with lust.

The very sound of Tadashi like that did such incredible things to Hiro. It changed him in ways he hadn't thought to be possible. Despite sixteen glorious years with his brother, Tadashi never failed to infuse surprise in him.

And when Tadashi did that—when his voice dipped into that delicious, throaty timber— _that_ was when Hiro knew that his self-control was lingering by a fraying thread.

Unfortunately, it was a mutual sign. When that insatiable entity within Tadashi awakened, Hiro had always found himself hopelessly ensnared. But then, he'd never found that he minded.

He was an addict. He craved that power, the struggle for it, the give-and-take, that perfect way in which Tadashi submitted to him but never, _ever_ surrendered.

Taboo their relationship may be, it was intense. Their rare fights were fierce and the sex was intoxicating. Sometimes, it was all Hiro could do to keep up the act and uphold that wretched façade.

That undying compassion and frustratingly stubborn mother-hen mode transferred well in the bedroom, in which Tadashi proved to be a deeply caring and passionate lover. He threw himself into being with Hiro the same way he poured over Baymax and his desire to change the world for the better. He loved with that same severe focus he gave to everything else he truly cared about.

So then, why was this so difficult?

Why was the idea knocking around in Hiro's mind, too stiff and stubborn to untangle?

Normally, Hiro might have thought he was being punished for denying Tadashi what he'd deserved. But hell, Hiro had been the one to bring it up in the first place! Just last week, he'd been prepared to take Baymax to the skies and scream his feelings from the highest koi fish turbine.

But now the moment was upon him, he felt frightened.

It was insane, no matter how many angles he looked at it from. This wasn't like, say, Fred and Wasabi spontaneously deciding to spill the beans of their ultra-secret affair to the group. Oh, no—this wasn't a simple matter of heated kisses or closet keys.

This would _change_ things. The only question was **what** would change.

A lot? Very little? Everything?

Good change? Bad change?

As such, Hiro felt crippled. As helpless as Megabot running on dying batteries, up against new-and-improved Little Yama.

Which, in itself, was a crappy metaphor.

For starters, Hiro would never lose enough brain cells to go bot-fighting on a low battery. Two, should he _somehow_ wind up in that nonsensical predicament, he just needed to play his cards right; skip past the song and dance of the first round and go straight into pummeling the opposing bot with it's own buzz saw.

Then he'd snatch Megabot and his winnings before dashing into Tadashi's waiting arms ...

... proceed to go home immediately and avoid the people he pissed off for as long as humanely possible, lest he were willing for them to decorate brick walls with his blood.

Ouch.

Hiro closed his eyes.

He was being ridiculous. Completely overreacting. Hadn't he shed this kind of nervousness months ago? The nerd crew were practically a surrogate family. And given Aunt Cass had taken the revelation remarkably well, why should he think otherwise with them?

They wouldn't be hated, nor ostracized or barred from the lab. Fred wouldn't bat an eye—if anything, he'd insist on making wedding plans. Sure, the others might be shocked, maybe enough to need a while to digest the news, but nothing would be any different in the long-term, right?

Hiro had nothing to fear from the crew, not even with all the plasma beams, high-speed adrenaline, and lethal chemical concoctions on hand. Never a reason to hesitate when it came to his friends.

The _real_ problem stemmed from what to say.

" _Tadashi and I are dating_."

" _Quick announcement, guys—we're an item now_. _Hope that's okay_."

" _We'll be leaving early tonight_. _Aunt Cass is out, so Tadashi and I'll be doing the do while she's gone_."

Sure, because that would go down well.

(Although if got a camera ready for the big moment, immortalizing five sets of shocked expressions might be worth it ... )

Maybe he should have thought this through. Had a two-on-two discussion with Tadashi on the ride to college that morning. Or perhaps he could stand to one side and signal Fred—the most eternally open-minded person in a group of non-judgmental friends—to pick his well-educated brain for the right words to string together.

Unless he just asked real nicely and convinced Fred to do the homework for him; the mascot was extremely good with words, after all.

Or he could woman up and follow the ladies' example.

This was hardly new, after all.

Nobody had bat an eye when Gogo and Honey Lemon went from eye humping each other in the study hall to openly groping in the latter's section of the lab.

Well, apart from Fred hastily covering Hiro's eyes and insisting the girls _think of the children!_

Smirking into his hoodie, Hiro wondered if this time, the mascot's reaction would top that experience. It almost gave him the resolve to march over to his older brother and give the nerd crew's current OTP a run for their money.

As irony would have it, Tadashi stood in other blonde's corner of the lab, the two idly chit-chatting as Honey whipped up her latest chemical brew with child-like glee.

Hiro watched his dork of a brother converse with Honey; strong arms folded across his chest and eyes bright as Honey added three drops of neon pink to simmering green and _whosh!_ Such lowly mortals would never find an answer to the age-old question of how Honey had managed to score a lifetime of perfect eyebrows.

Whatever her secret, she was openly willing to share it with the group. More than once, Honey had lamented that Tadashi should shape his up (" _I'll do it! I promise, with my combination of ice cubes and aloe vera, you won't feel a thing!_ ") but the one time he'd relented, Baymax had been summoned across the room by the time she'd barely plucked one hair, to which Gogo swore she'd never let him live the incident down.

Hiro had laughed too, that day, even when Tadashi pouted and hid his secret stash of gummy bears. But secretly, Hiro _liked_ those bushy abominations that framed Tadashi's brown eyes—a shred of imperfection on his otherwise immaculate image.

Suitably located above Hiro's favourite feature; those eyes were a really nice brown, too, like that ridiculously expensive, rich blend of coffee that kept the brothers awake during emergency cram sessions. That caffeinated brew was a miracle work of concentrated motivation—practically a second necessity in Hiro's life after Tadashi himself.

Oh, yes. His brother was a very visually pleasing treat, even if he possessed the dress sense of an eighty-year old.

Could a human be that perfect in looks and personality? He was attractiveness, intelligence, compassion, and strength infused together into a mortal body, a single soul.

And he was Hiro's.

Immediately, that inward revelation urged him the extra mile.

A wave of possessiveness welled up inside of him. Rapidly, it peaked and bubbled over, propelling him further into the lab. He swerved past Fred's beat-up recliner and side-stepped Honey's manic flair until he was barely a hair-width from Tadashi.

When Tadashi looked down at him, that beautiful grin lit up his eyes.

Hiro waited a beat, eyes locked with Tadashi's long enough for the older to realize something remained to be said.

"Something the matter?"

So much, yet so little.

Hiro wouldn't know where to begin explaining it.

Instead, he removed his hand from his pocket, slowly moving it to graze across Tadashi's firm stomach and slip into the fold of his cardigan. The effect was instant: coffee-brown eyes widened, his body tensed, and he made that sound in the back of his throat that Hiro shamelessly adored.

"H-Hiro ... "

The younger froze. Was Tadashi backing out? Didn't he want this anymore?

Instantly, Hiro felt his resolve faltering. _Don't flake out on me, 'Dashi_.

Unless he was just as nervous and excited as Hiro was?

With as much confidence he could muster, Hiro tugged on the edges of Tadashi's cardigan, coaxing the older low enough that their foreheads nearly touched. He exhaled a shaky breath across his brother's lips and surrendered to the smile that teased the corners of his lips.

"Try and stop me."

Barely a few seconds later, Tadashi was mirroring his smile with a brief shake of his head. "Not happening."

From there, it was like it had been a million times before. Tilting his head, Hiro closed the distance between Tadashi's lips and his own. It was chaste and gentle,; a watered-down version of many times in the past, but the contact lingered long enough to quench any doubt of the passion behind it.

Hiro's heart fluttered manically in his chest, as if a hummingbird were caught within him. It seemed like the most reasonable explanation, should he have sprouted wings, if the sudden feeling of weightlessness was of any indication.

Had the façade been so heavy? Hiro could feel those shackles evaporating from his shoulders, rough claws relenting the very moment his lips had touched Tadashi's.

And it felt so _good_.

Conscious of the requirement not to get carried away, yet wanting to savour the feel of Tadashi's lips on his own for all it was worth, Hiro lost count of how many seconds, minutes, or hours passed until he pulled away, the muted smack of their lips a sharp sound in the silence of the room.

Heh, no rockets or fireworks this time? Okay, given neither was a remotely safe object to smuggle into the lab, then sparklers would have been sufficient ambience, at least. Anything to liven up the abrupt dip in volume.

... wait a minute ...

Way, _way_ too quiet.

Terror flooded back to Hiro, full force.

 _Shit_.

He fucked up. Like really, _really_ fucked this up to the extreme. What had he been thinking!? Exposing a barely legal, incestuous affair happening under the noses of their no doubt disgusted former friends?

He couldn't look. No, no, he couldn't face whatever it was that awaited him. Anger? He could take that. It burned relentlessly, but eventually snuffed itself out.

But hate?

Ugh. Overreaction!

They wouldn't. That was just it, they _wouldn't_ hate him or Tadashi for this.

But he wasn't quite ready for the shock. Not yet.

...

And it was still too quiet.

Tendrils of anxiety coiled around Hiro's stomach, steadily compressing until he felt like he'd vomit over Honey's simmering chemical blends.

His petite stature had always bothered him, but now Hiro wished he were smaller. Tiny enough that he could scurry behind Tadashi and remain invisible until the backlash died down.

But gripping his cardigan was an acceptable compromise. He didn't think he could move his legs, anyway.

Tentatively, he twisted against the brambles that rooted him to the ground, turning his head just enough to catch a brief glimpse at five different faces from the corner of his vision.

It was instantaneous magic.

To the surprise of nobody, Fred's voice tore apart the ice: "Ooh! Is this a new group-bonding thing? Are we kissing now, or is it just another Hamada brothers exclusive?"

It was further shattered as Gogo shot him a look. "Kiss me and they'll never find what's left of you."

Behind her, Honey leant forward on her elbows, eyes half-lidded. "Aw," she cooed. "You can kiss _me_ , Fred. Unless Wasabi is more to your tastes?"

He opened his mouth to respond, likely with something cringe-worthy enough to be hilarious, when a deadpan voice crept in;

"Yes, tell us, _Fred_." It was horrifying how lethal a small wrench looked with Gogo's fist clenched around it. "Who's better suited to your taste?"

A bitter impasse ensnared Fred; one that even he could see the futility of. "Whoa, whoa, Gogo!" His hands were held up defensively. "You know I'd never _think_ of touching your lady friend—"

Green eyes widened as Honey stood upright. "Excuse me?" she said, playful demeanor gone.

"I mean, no offense!"

To which Honey's eyes narrowed as she tilted her head, arms folded. "It's easier said than done when you just implied I'm too repulsive to touch."

Several stations away, Wasabi added in his two cents: "And coming from a man who wears a pair of underwear four different ways ... " He trailed off none-too-subtly.

"Hey! It'd go against my moral code to mess in a relationship." But of course, he ruined it with: "Not that I'd have a problem canoodling with any of my single friends," and directed a lecherous smirk at Wasabi.

The larger boy winced. "Okay, no. Just ... no—what're you doing!?" he yelled and fled across the lab as Fred loomed after him with his arms outstretched.

"Come _onnnn_ , Wasabi," the blonde crooned, "Give us a kiss! No homo intended!"

As the mascot scurried after his indignant friend with the most devious grin, Honey quietly snorted as she turned to Gogo. "All the homo," she murmured, before capturing the shorter girl's lips in a kiss.

Unheard by the bickering five, Tadashi groaned in exasperation. Though the tiring effect was ruined by his inability to contain his smile. "Look what you started, knucklehead."

By that point, Hiro couldn't help but match the sentiment.

"Love you, too, _nerd_."

-0-

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 **Author's Note:** Oh, yes. I needed this. :)


End file.
